Rerun: Twilight Love
by Pitbull Almighty
Summary: A re-run of my old fiction-work, Twilight love. The plot remains the same but now with more depth and structure to it. Of vague origin, but typical circumstance, Kiara finds herself of Puerto Angel; with a choice to fight against the Sphere, or to keep on running. Warnings for; gore, violence, language and ideologically sensitive material.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter – 1 – This Was Not What I Expected

_**AN:**__ Welcome to a re-write of my very old and previously terrible fic, Twilight Love. The story always had a decent plot, but the skill to carry it off wasn't there. And although this re-write will be effectively less explicit in certain genres', there will be plenty of warnings for gore, violence and language, the way it was meant to be. Skyland was never a gentle world and I plan to show some of the brutality and difficulty along with a few taboo subjects that I feel would run riot in this era. It's a post apocalyptic setting with a twist, which describes Skyland perfectly. So please, sit back and enjoy what a few years of plotting can produce.  
Only my OC is © to me, and her name will be revealed when I am ready. I do not own any rights over Skyland but this literature belongs to me._

_-x-_

There wasn't much to remember, not for her anyway.  
There was the stress, the pressure and the fear; her vison blurring and her instruments blurring, then the undeniable impact shock of her ships' wing hitting a block and spinning through the expanse out of control, instruments screaming and the disorientation was maddening. The malfunctions kept on coming and she wasn't able to even tend to any of them. Her head had been muzzy and fogged before but now, eyes rolling back, the sounds fading ,she was sure this was her end. The Sphere would get her, kill her, torture her, experiment…whatever they did with their prisoners or whatever might be left of them.  
Her sign echoed over the scream of her navigation system and she remember a brief flash of panic as red-brown cut through the clouds in her darkening vision…then…nothing.

Body was pulled taut, then released, then again. Numb pressure on her back and she felt her arms above her head and the pressure was there again, pulling, but constant this time, then a suddenly release and eyes cracked open. The edges of her slitted vision were black and she could just make out bodies moving through the smoke, the gleam of fire and her hearing…it was all but gone, but muffled voices, urgent in tone and probably loud in volume. She blinked as her world shook and lifted and she most definitely felt the heat…something had exploded. The blackness came back and that feeling, that empty, tight pit in her chest, that she knew nothing, nothing of what was going on but she had…to stay…awake. No, not today then, as her brain moved no faster than the slowest of creatures, then slowed down more. Her eyes shut groggily and the sounds faded, the feeling of movement faded and there was nothingness once more.

Next time she woke, her vision had improved somewhat, but her hearing had seemed to sharpen a thousand times over and all there was a sharp static buzz and her head hurt. It burned in so many ways, all over, but her body was weak, unresponsive and she couldn't even muster the fear that she may never move again. Her head only rolled limply to the side and she saw the IV in her hand before the darkness claimed her again.

Once more she awoke from this nightmare, and this time, it felt more natural to her, like coming from a deep sleep, a dreamless one, and there was no pain, only the feeling of being in a cocoon. Her eyes opened slowly, blinking softly as her vision would return smoothly but again, like she had only been asleep. There was only a dull throb in her head which seemed to lessen over a short period as her body became more and more responsive to her waking state. It was slow, but she remained calm as vision fully returned to her and she was staring at a ceiling, with light coming in from a window, that wasn't too high, but from the pattern of the light, was barred. The light indicated early evening…was she in prison?  
Swallowing thickly, she rolled her head to glance at her left hand…there was nothing there and she went to look at the other, this time raising it slowly to her face. Again, nothing and she heard and felt herself sigh. Spine shifting, all feeling in her body returned in a warm, gradual rush and she started to recognise the responsiveness of her limbs, her skin, her very organs as every part of her returned to life.  
And bloody hell did she need to pee.

After staggering into what could only be described as a meager on-suite washroom, locating the sink and taps, she had near fallen into it face first and splashed cooling water on her face, drinking some of it in her now desperation to re-hydrate herself.  
How long she had stayed bent over the sink, panting softly and just waiting for her body to steady out was not known to her, but when she looked up, her face was dripping with dirt and she glanced to the side, before turning.  
A tub…with a shower head and taps…now it hit her; this was NOT the Sphere. It couldn't be, she must have escaped.  
A scraping at what was her door got her attention and now making her way to the doorway of the on-suite with what she considered to be much stronger legs, she witnessed a small hatch in the door open and a tray was pushed through and balanced, waiting for her to take it.  
She wandered over, slightly cautious, but once she saw the contents and smelt them, there was no hesitation and she took the tray from the slot and turned away, not speaking to the gap, not looking through it; not quite ready to know about her captors…or maybe they were her saviors? Either way, she wasn't ready to know about them and focused on the food and water; two large bottles of water and an already filled glass.  
There was a meaty stew in a bowl, hot and steaming, on a plate was what looked to be mashed root vegetable and a few bundles of steamed leaf sheath like plants and a puddle of warm beans, probably tinned; but food was food and this smelt delicious. There was cutlery as well, thank goodness. Blunted as of no use as a weapon, but it was there.  
Her dry lips curved into a soft smile as she placed the tray on a small rounded table and started to look around in earnest now, taking in her surroundings.

The cell, it could only be a cell, was large, but a single room aside from the on-suite and well lit. There was meager furniture, the table, the bed and the wardrobe, which she opened and found soft white towels, pairs of combat trousers and appropriate top attire for herself. They must have seen what she was wearing when her ship crashed and taken the clothing based on that. Everything was clean and smelt of stone and disinfectant but she didn't mind.  
Black combats, black vest top and a black jacket were all taken out. She had other colours to choose from, but these just felt safe; and she brought the appropriate under garments out once she had located them.  
Clothes were placed on the bed and towel was hung on the corner of the sink and she started to look around her on-suite bathroom of sorts and figure out the workings of the shower. When she was done, she's located soap, deodorant, shampoo and conditioner, toothpaste, several toothbrushes, a flannel, another towel and the showers' water was at an acceptable temperature as she stepped into it, her old clothing in a pile.

The pressure was hard and relaxing and by the time she stepped out of the shower and back into the main room, she looked like a different person and felt like one.  
Standing at no more than 5ft 9 inches, with dark brown hair pulled back into a loose braid and vibrant blue eyes that took in her surroundings with more awareness now, she was the picture of alertness. Her features were not out of the ordinary, neat more than anything, expressive eyes, but she was no child. No, she was in her late twenties and her body and features showed maturity without ageing but the life she'd lead before ending up in this location was clear to any observer. Her arms where of toned muscle, her curvature subtle, nothing like a males, but had obvious strength in them, as had the rest of her body. Her shoulders and back being broad but not too much so, her waist curving in and flowing out to slim hips and combats now hid athletically toned legs, and socks hid feet that were strong yet delicate to look at.  
Faint scars lined her arms, wrists and shoulders; not many and you'd have to be close to look, but one, a scar that sliced through her right eyebrow, was obvious, but not garish or knotted. A slim line, like a knife cut, at the end, just broke the outline of her shaped eyebrows, giving her a meaner, more focused look than you should find on such a face. A strong but streamlined jaw with medium high but not prominent cheekbones, almond shaped eyes and small, neat ears and compact but not thin or plush lips and a tidy nose, not crooked, turning up or down but with a faint beauty mark on the left nostril were the features that adorned her, making her who she was, who she is.  
This was also a topic she did not want to think of just yet. Purely existing was just becoming easier so she continued to do just that.

Sitting on the bed with a plop, she devoured the food easily and it was good to her taste. There was no spice but plenty of flavour within each mouthful and she was done within minutes, leaning back against the wall where her bed was resting, sipping water.  
Having not turned on her light, which hung, also caged, in the center of her ceiling; she was content to go to sleep as the natural light faded, removing her combats and placing them under her pillow, her body rocked over, back facing the door; and with a soft sigh, she shut down to the fading light.

By the next morn, she was already awake and up, clean and feeling stronger, sitting cross legged on her bed, resting and again sipping water, surprised at the heat of the place. She'd been up for a good while, thinking, mulling over her situation and so far it was pretty clear. She had been running from the Sphere, she'd crashed and now, she had been taken apparent prisoner by people but she had no idea if they were possibly friend or would remain foe.  
Her head was bowed but lifted slightly, strands of dark brown hair falling into her eyes as her door scraped and creaked open heavily, her eyes lifted to the widening gap and a deep breath was taken as she came to face her captors.

-x-


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2 – This Is Where We're At.

This wasn't what she expected at all. Her brow furrowed just a little in confusion as she stood up slowly to face the figures in the door.  
One was an ageing man, he was in the centre, white hair and kind eyes wearing a grey zipped up jacket and matching trousers; he offered her a small, quick smile which was half returned but she was more focused on the two behind the man. Now these guys posed some threat in her mind; to the centres' left, a dark haired and dark eyed young lad, early twenties in a bright blue shirt and dark cargo pants stood, his expression unfriendly and bored, not matching the other males' expression. The other was of a darker complexion with black hair and also dark brown eyes, wearing a "back in the day" pilots bomber jacket and red camouflage combat trousers, his expression also stony, cautious. Both of them were armed with laser rifles which they held casually, but were undoubtedly skilled with them, she guessed.

Passing a hand over her mouth and licking dry lips, she shifted her weight as the three stepped in, so focused on them was she, that the forth figure slid in unnoticed and stayed in the shadows.  
With the door now shut and what she assumed to be the older mans' two guards stationed by the door, backs to the wall, she warily eyed the older man as he pulled out a chair by her bedside table and sat, looking very at ease with himself as he motioned for her to take a seat on the bed. She did so cautiously, but not slowly; just keeping her eye on the three she could see but then settled for focusing on the closest figure in the room.  
Hands clasped lightly in her lap, she mentally steadied herself not to default to flight or fight and flashed a small nervous smile which he actually returned as a genuine soft smile and she looked down briefly before meeting his gaze again. Before she could open her own mouth to apologise, however, he spoke first and his voice was calm, actually rather friendly for the situation but assertive enough to make her think twice about lying or trying to get around the truth. She had nothing to hide now, and she guessed they'd gone through her stuff and possibly even her ships' logs. The thought made her stomach tighten with dread but she forced herself to remain calm and listen to his questions.

"Good to see you're finally awake and looking no worse for wear," he chuckled, shuffling in his seat a little and placing folded hands on the table.  
"My name; is Vector. We have no information on you, however, so I'll ask; what's your name and do you know where you are?"

"My name is Kiara Sanosuke, and no, I have no idea where I am or how I got here. All I know is I was being chased by the Sphere…" she stopped as he raised an eyebrow. For a moment, indignation rose hot in her throat as she jumped to the conclusion that he didn't believe her, but soon realised her was asking her to go on her narrative. Pleased with how steady her voice had sounded the first time, Kiara now continued her explanation of past events.  
"I had escaped from one of their facilities…it was North, must have been North of here somewhere. They were conducting experiments…Sejin based weapons, grafting them to Sejins and humans alike and well…failing. Subjects either died in agony or," she paused and looked down. "Actually," the laugh was bitter and short. "That was it. They died. They had no way of grafting weapons to flesh successfully and introducing Sejin energy into a non-Sejin is just as lethal as it sounds. If you didn't die from trauma and implant rejection, you'd die from whatever type of poisoning Sejin energy gave you. Effectively cooking you from inside." Again passing a hand over her mouth and breathing in deeply and the breath she let out was long and shook slightly, she refused to raise her eyes for a while, the biting silence playing on her nerves, setting her on edge. Oh god, they thought she was lying, she knew they did. Her teeth worried her lower lip and Vectors voice made her jump, such was her concentration of trying to figure out how to make them believe her.  
"Is that what those markings on your arm meant…?"

Kiaras' head shot up, she dared not believe that they'd believe her and she nodded in earnest, holding one arm out, but the marks were gone. She expected as much but she traced what she remembered out anyway, glancing at Vector every so often whilst she explained.  
"Yes! I was wondering if they'd still be there, but yes. That was where they planned on grafting…"

She continued to explain, the dots and circles meant that's where major arteries and nerve endings where and the lines showed where flexion would be needed to need to be stopped. Effectively, they would be grafting their own robots arms to humans and Sejins, with the ability to retract the fingers into an open gun barrel and fire their weapons through a complex neural networking system. But every time they tried, they'd failed; the subjects perishing from one type of trauma overload or another.  
When she'd finished her explanation, Kiara removed her arms and sat back, looking expectantly at Vector whose expression was torn between elation, disgust, horror and determination.  
Kiara wasn't daft, she knew what she'd given him; the most information they'd probably ever received on the Spheres' current activities and what their current motions could lead too. She'd given them a rough idea of where the facility was, in fact, her ship may have still had the co-ordinates; but since it was stolen, she doubted it, but it never hurt to hope.  
Gnawing on the corner of her lower lip again, she folded both her arms and tilted her head slightly and pursed her lips, her tone now wry and somewhat mistrusting.

"Well then, you've got all the information I've got, now it's your turn. Where am I and who are you guys?"  
She gave a tight, small smirk when the guards shifted uneasily and then fixed Vector with a new, solid look. She dared him to back out of the question, dared him to just do what she thought he was going to do which was to take the information and run, and when he started to do just that, she was surprised to hear a deeper, rougher voice cut over him.

"Tell her."  
Vector whipped round, one arm over the back of the chair, his tone scandalised.  
"Cortes! We can't…you can't possibly…"  
Then the shadows moved and Kiara had to stifle a gasp but one eyebrow shot up at the sight. The most undeniably pissed off man in history stepped into the light. His brown eyes glinted with a determined light, well, Kiara put it down to determination, she was too busy taking stock of whether or not he was going to be a threat or not.  
Standing at 6ft 3", wearing a white turtle neck, long sleeved shirt and kharki combats with boots to match, Aran Cortes was arguably the biggest, most terrifying thing in the room and Kiara stood up on pure reflex to his presence. His glare, which had been targeted on the Vector whipped flicked up to meet her gaze…predator meets prey, or something to that extent. His tone was gravelly, matter-of-fact, with a Scottish accent, and the tartan wrapped round his waist confirmed this, and he wasted no time moving around Vector to stand next to him, facing Kiara, his eyes following her closely.  
"You're on Puerto Angel, my name is Aran Cortes and this is what's left of the original Rebellion." That was more than enough information and he knew it. They had both clocked the others mental scope, or some of it at least and Cortes knew this Kiara wasn't daft and as the enormity of the situation dawned her, Kiara realised exactly what he was going to ask next, and she had her answer ready and forward almost before he could finish his sentence. She had the knowledge of the Spheres' new motive for power and their basic location; they had the tech, manpower and resources to get at it and keep her safe at the same time.  
"Will you join us?"  
"Yes."

-x-

_**AN:**__ Chapter two is up and running.  
You'll see the massive difference between how I play/write Cortes now from the original. I wanted him to come out at the last moment, straight and to the point as he's always been. I know the rebels themselves are not "scary" as well, but from someone who has pretty much just woken up from a two day coma, after crashing into an unknown bloc, totally unsure of where she is, I think they'd present a pretty large threat in her mind.  
I didn't use Kiaras' name until the last possible moment on purpose. I wanted you, as the reader, to feel distant from her until Kiara herself was forced into reality of having to introduce herself and come face to face with what was really happening. Her last name is pronounced San-oh-sook.  
As for the surgical tech that the Sphere are messing around with, more on that later; spoilers and all that._


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3 - Kiara

She sat in her new room hunched over, hands over her eyes and head down.  
Not for the first if even second time in her life, Kiara was really starting to question her life choices. What in gods earth was she thinking just saying yes like that? Oh wait, she wasn't.

A frustrated groan echoed in her chest as she sat on her bed with her back k pressed against the wall and now she lifted her head and craned it back so she had the back of her skull against it and was looking up at the bland ceiling with a less than pleased expression on her face, brow furrowed and eyes slightly narrowed, she stared up at the ceiling deep in thought, mouth a thin line.  
This was insanity; well, it wasn't if one just stopped and thought out what was going on, or maybe if one had thought out her actions and words beforehand, she wouldn't have been in this predicament.  
So desperate she had been to gain whatever upper hand or foothold she could against the Sphere, she had pledged herself to a group of...what did they call themselves again? Pirates? The Resistance? She couldn't think of the name right now but for all she knew, they could have just been another rabble that thought they were invincible. Yes sure, past events had been somewhat explained; she really hadn't been listening and she knew she should have been, but the key words and phrases had come through and that's when her heart started to sink.

Everyone knew Marcus Farrell, and everyone knew he was dead and his family scattered to the wind. Then she finds this group who just happen to have his children and a lead on his wife?!  
Kiara had sat through the talk given to her by the men; she'd learned their names, Wayan, Cortes and Vector. Oh yes, she'd sat through the explanation quietly enough, but inside she had been near hysteria. They were either deluded or...no this was too good to be true, yet looking into their eyes, Kiara could see that they honestly thought they could win against the Sphere.  
In turn, she'd said what she could about the facility she escaped from; filling in the co-ordinate blank spaces and then injected a few droplets of knowledge about the process but not let them know everything. It wasn't that she couldn't remember, it was just that holding information was the only thing she could do to feel safe right now.  
A sound of despair left her throat unbidden, a sigh and a whimper. What safety did that offer her in all reality? None! If these guys were just a deluded bunch of rebels, they were all dead anyway.

Their little meeting had concluded with her items that had been recovered returned to her and an escort to her new room.  
It had been sparsely furnished, much like the room shed been held in before.  
"You were never our prisoner," she had been told. "We're not in there habit of keeping those."  
Kiara had snorted at that and dismissed it as nothing more than fronting talk; but now she had a moment to herself, a cold chill tickled at her spine at the recollection of those words. Did they even realise the hidden yet ever so threatening implication of what had just been said? Probably. Maybe they were more dangerous and organised than Kiara gave them credit for.  
But the whole and very real question was: why had she just said yes without thinking? Accepting an offer which until that point, she knew nothing about!

Considering it now, that was easy, the answer was simply survival. She gets to live another day and possibly take the Sphere down a peg or two. If not, just the very notion that she was alive and lost to the Sphere? That was a good enough reason to take an offer which included a roof over your head, a bed, food, water, protection and this "secret block", such as it was, had all of these things and more. That was enough for a desperate individual to offer their services and loyalty to a cause. If that's what it took to survive, then so be it.

-x-

When next her eyes opened, Kiara realised it had grown dark outside and with a lazy and stiff roll if her head, groggily registered that the light coming through her curtains was intermittent, flashes but no real threat. The dull pounding that she first believed to be in her head grew just a touch louder and could now be felt through her whole body. No, that was an exaggeration, but her back was the conductor of this sensation and Kiara slowly closed her eyes and squeezed them shut, rolling her head again to its' original position as she tried to take in the messages coming through.

With a low groan, she concluded she must had fallen asleep in that position and now it was evening, or the dead of night...or early in the morning. She hadn't kept time since she had seen the three interrogators and had no way of checking when in the day or night it was.  
Gingerly prizing her back from the walk with a wince at her stiff muscles and joints, she slowly confirmed her bearings. The thudding was not any bodily pain, but music...but coming from where?

Legs coming to swing over the edge of her bed, Kiara cradled her head in her hands, once again hunched over, elbows on her knees. She'd never been one to like waking up and dispute the fading if the mild discomfort in her spine and neck, she still felt like her nose was a little out of joint.  
Allowing her thoughts to wander back to their original path, she wasn't surprised to find that she couldn't focus at all. A low grunt and she was on her feet, trudging too her en suit, again such as it was, and splashing a meagre amount of cold water on her face to wake herself up and padded it down with a towel that wasn't the softest but she wasn't complaining.

Progress back into her room was a slow process and she found herself padding in circles, battling with her natural curiosity of what could possibly warrant what she had now concluded to be a light show and music. So pretty much a party. Ugh, were they all party animals too? In this day and age? Kiara found herself clapping a hand to her face in frustration. She was going to have to find out what was going on, this was all too strange.

A few minutes later found her dressed and booted, wandering the corridors cautiously, following the sound of the music which grew increasingly louder as she drew nearer. A good sign, she rolled her eyes at her obvious train of thought. A few wrong turns had been made but quickly retraced and Kiara was confident shed be able to find her way back when needed.  
Hoping she wasn't over or under dressed in her black combat pants and boots and a white shirt and dark khaki jacket, Kiara stood before the door that would undoubtedly lead to the room where the party was being held.

Taking a deep breath, she lay her hand on the handle and pressed down.  
What could possibly go wrong?

-x-

_**AN:**__ A little bit more of an insight into what Kiaras' motives are/who she is/how she thinks. Or something like that. Just a little bit of bulk to show how my characters are working, what's going on inside their heads without rushing the story forward too much. So this is meant to be a little disjointed to show how chaotic her thoughts are. She hasn't thought this through, and now hindsight is kicking in.  
I've heard there have been some issues with formatting as well, I'll try and get those ironed out asap. _


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4 - Cortes

He hasn't been a hundred percent sure why he'd offered thus Kiara a place on his team. He knew next to nothing about her, her abilities her background; all he knew was that she had information on the Sphere and he had the firepower to challenge that. Apparently that's enough to get you onto the team these days.

Sprawled out at the wheel of the , he stared thoughtfully into the rays of the sunset that were making themselves known. Golds, oranges, yellows, creams and reds were all in there, dancing through the clouds and darkening sky with their own unique dance and they seemed to be performing for him. The corner of a lip twitched upwards in a smirk as he entertained the notion for a moment. He enjoyed snippets of time like this; on his own, with only nature to distract him. The rays had done their job of pulling his thoughts from the whirlpool they had been in, but now the smirk faded and a frown almost touched them, his expression brooding and severe.  
Propping his chin on an arm that was leaning on the arms if his chair, Cortes shifted his weight, not really moving from the languid position he'd adopted with ease but his eyes seemed to darken as he drifted into thought.

So, this Kiara knew the position of one of the medical facilities, if it what was being practiced could even be labeled as Medicine or Medical. Now a lip did lift and he scoffed to himself; it seemed the Sphere just found new ways of disgusting him and the urged to spit on their name itched at the back of his skull and he shifted with a sullen air before stilling again. Anger would do him no good now, so he swallowed the rising bile and continued to try and work out a plan of immediate action.  
Seek and destroy? It sounded easy enough; find the base Kiara spoke of, try and pull the locations of other bases and destroy those as well.

He huffed as complications and other priorities took this moment to flood into his mind. If his actual goal was to just throw the Sphere into disarray and disrupt their progress, then yes, destroying as many bases, medical or not, would be the way to go; but he had made promises, to himself, to his crew, to friends and to two certain children that he would not only cripple the Sphere, he would end it, avenge the death of his Leader and find not only the most powerful Sejin on what was left of thus godforsaken joint, but the mother of two very worried children.  
He huffed a long breath out and closed his eyes, massaging his temples.  
No, this was about cutting the head off the snake then burning the body.  
The Sphere was going to have to go down and stay down.  
But then what happened when the Sphere disappeared; would tensions over resources rise more? Would a more tyrannical individual appear from the ashes?

The arrival and existence of the Sphere had actually managed to crush a lot of territorial disputes. Not solving them, but obliterating them and taking that space and whatever resources they harbored for themselves...then the slavery had started... And the spies.  
His teeth ground together silently and finger dug into auburn tresses as recollections and reasons to hate the Sphere flooded unbidden into his mind.  
The territorial disputes had soon stopped. Fights wasted man and fire power and a attracted attention. It attracted the interest of the Sphere and then nobody won, in fact, usually, everyone died. Sphere operatives and Brigs had been known to level a block, shatter it into nothing, destroying and shattering lives just to prove a point.

When word got out, alliances had been forged out of desperation and resources had been shared but not freely, just quietly and with underhand dealings. Spies had played a part, people selling others out to the Sphere for a cup of water. And the Sphere in turn changed their tactics, becoming stealthier and far more dangerous. There was no need for much brute force anymore. Backstabbing ran riot within the blocks and Cortes as hard pressed to keep Puerto Angel hidden and free of dissent. He had sniffs of it, now and again and had acted accordingly, but...

He groaned and doubled over now, nails catching and pulling at some of the hair as his thoughts cascaded out of control.  
When this happened, Cortes could have sworn it hurt. He certainly suffered some form of nausea which hit violently as he made to stand, hands clamped onto a railing and head hanging, some strands of hair hanging round his face.  
In a sudden fit of frustration and a blur of movement, Cortes reached round the back of his head and yanked his hair restraint out, hand returning to slam down on the failing, restraint in his palm and his hair, now freed, fell and framed his face, hanging like a waterfall on each side and catching the sun so stands looked like they were on fire.

He had no idea how long he'd been standing there for, but when he looked up next, the sky was just starting to darken and his neck and back ached something horrendous.  
He straightened with gritted teeth and a grim expression and gingerly started to make his way off the massive cruiser.

By the time his feet touched grass, Cortes had full movement returned to him and he made his way briskly over the open space, past the lighthouse and to the main building of Puerto Angel, not worrying about the ; after all, she was programmed to respond to his bio-signature, and once he swiped out, that was it. She was in lockdown.

-x-

He entered the main building and had to hold back a groan as he saw the equipment being set up, but his eye roll wasn't quite suppressed. Mahad was obviously planning on another party, any excuse to show off his music and dancing skills. He snorted at the thought and jumped slightly as a voice came from his right.  
"Yeah, we feel you there."

He met Dahlias amused gaze with his own level near-glare and wasn't surprised when she merely raised an eyebrow and smirked at him, leading the way to the central bar and somehow, Cortes found himself following her, drawing up alongside and shooting her a sideways glance which was beautifully ignored.

"Two soda and lime, please." Dahlia addressed the bar tender respectfully and he nodded in response before turning away to prepare the intended drinks.  
"Expensive taste," mused Cortes leaning on the bar and he met her playful gaze steadily, momentarily distracted as Dhalia turned to get the drinks then moved away towards the stairs to access the upper level of the bar.  
"Yes but it's all in good taste, what with Mahad back into the party mood." She chuckled, side eyeing him as Cortes drew up alongside again. She was met with a rueful "Aye." in response.  
"Not to worry anyway, it's going on your tab." Now her smile was positively radiant as Cortes snorted in derision and rolled his eyes ahead moving further in front of her to start taking the stairs in his own fashion, two at a time.

Dahlias smile merged into a dry smirk as her comment was met with more resistance than normal. Something had really got the Captains boxers in a knot, she mused, looking him up and down discreetly, eyes lingering on the sway of his hips as he increased his pace and changed his stride to start bounding up the stairs.  
Dahlia followed at a more sedate pace and joined him at a window booth, sliding in opposite him and pushing a glass over to him, a quiet "You're welcome." to his "Thank you."

Thanking Dahlia for the drink, he took a couple of deep dregs of it before placing it back on the table and learning back against the glass, allowing it to warm his back slightly from the best it had stored during the day.  
Turning his head to look at her, he was surprised to find her look away almost shyly before her eyes resolutely came back to meet with his and he just smirked at her, an eyebrow arching briefly.  
They stayed there for a while, Cortes filling Dahlia in on the events of the last few days, explaining the possible new crew member, both of them wincing as Mahad started sound-checks and messing with various levels of bass and treble.

When the music started in full flow, Cortes offered to refill their drinks. "And as it's already on my tab, you shouldn't have a problem saying yes, eh?" He had observed casually. "When have I ever?" Was the just as casual response coupled with an airy gesture.  
Cortes had barked a laugh and started making his way back down to the bar with the empty glasses.  
He wasn't long having them refilled but as he ascended the stairs, a flash of movement caught his eye and he turned to focus on it.

One if the back doors had opened and shut again and walking down the stairs to the main floor, looking somewhat bemused by everything going on around her, was the topic of his earlier conversation with Dahlia.  
Time seemed to slow as she lifted her head and their eyes met. Contact was held for what seemed to be an eternity, but in reality was barely even a breath.

Then Cortes inclined his head in invitation and continued to make his way back up the stairs.

-x-

_**AN:**__ Again, a quick insight into how I'm having the characters work in this story. I've always had this story as a little OOC, so I'm keeping it that way, think of it as an AU almost. But this is just to help whomever read is see how much I've put on Cortes' shoulders and how I think his attitude is towards it.  
The interaction with Dahlia is harmless, I've often shipped them together, just because Dahlia seems to have the potential to have a great sense of humour and be easy to get along with but also a bit of a flirt. She's clearly athletic in the movie/tv shows so appreciation of another's body come naturally to her. I'll see how I feel about adding more Dartes in there. The soda is just fizzy water, nothing major._


End file.
